“You’recertainthey’re conjoined?” asked Nick. “Below their vital organs, you say?”
“Yes,” said the consultant, opening her hands briefly. “We can’t say for certain until they’ve done a little more growing, but it appears they’re joined at the hip.”
We gazed wordlessly at the images projected before us. Our twins, tiny arms wrapped around one another, heads together, their legs a scramble. They created the sweetest shape of a heart.
“Remember what I told you?” I asked breathlessly, unable to comprehend what our lives, and our babies’ lives, were going to look like in the coming months. I felt disembodied, weightless, as if I were drifting away. I held Nick’s hand tighter, my only anchor to this earth.
“What’s that, darling?”
“Peculiar fruit,” I said, gesturing up at the screen.
THE END
